


2075 Miles

by Cormorant



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cormorant/pseuds/Cormorant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Segs makes Hallsy feel better after his team loses the All-Canadian game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2075 Miles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at offseasonmatch at LJ.
> 
> I'll admit it was written kind of hastily, so it's not quite my best effort, but I wanted to share anyway.

After the game, once the handshakes had been exchanged and the guys had been reassured that despite the fact that they were not celebrating with the Mentorship Cup, they were still great players, and they all had bright futures ahead of them, Taylor is finally able to breathe again. Once he's sure it's okay to leave, and the media was done with him, he gets all his things in order and makes his way out to the car. When he gets there, though, he doesn't leave; he waits. He waits until his phone trills the sound of a text message.  
  
 _we still doin this?_  it reads.  
  
 _yeah send me ur adress_  he sends back.   
  
He gets a response in seconds, and programs it into his GPS. Fifteen minutes later, he pulls up in front of Tyler Seguin's condo.   
  
"Nice to see you dressed up for the occasion!" the other man says when he opens the door to great him.  
  
"Likewise," he spits back sarcastically. Seguin was dressed far more casually, barefoot in a v-neck and mesh shorts. Taylor wonders if he should have changed, but he's ushered in before he can overthink it any more. He was kind of hoping that Marshall would be there, but Segs explained that his sister had him for the time being because of his on-going house-training issues. "Maybe you could meet him tomorrow, though" he remarks, and Taylor tries really hard not to blush at the thought of still being here in the morning.   
  
"You want a drink?" Tyler asks. He nods in response. "Awesome. Go sit, I'll get us something."  
  
He toes his shoes off and takes a seat on the couch. They hadn't done this in a long time. Since last summer, when Tyler was celebrating winning the Stanley Cup in his rookie year. Taylor never actually told the other man that he was jealous. He never admitted to anyone how he felt. He had known from the start that it wasn't going to last with them, it just wasn't believeable. They were going to end up on different sides of the continent, in different countries and divisions. And, come on, they were fucking teenagers, the long-distance thing would never work out.  
  
"How's Jordan?" Tyler asks, handing him a beer and flopping himself down on the opposite end of the couch.  
  
"He's fine," Taylor answers, "doing his own thing right now."  
  
Tyler nods. "Are you two still--" he makes a vague gesture with his hands.  
  
"Yeah, kinda. I guess. I-it's complicated," he sighs. Segs just nods again. "Uh, how about you and Brad?"  
  
"He's good. He's got a girlfriend."   
  
"Oh," is all Taylor can think of saying. The fact that the other man is failing to hide the pained look on his face is more than enough to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Maybe it would be best to change the subject.  
  
"So, uh, I heard Looch is engaged."  
  
"Yeah, as of a few days ago," Tyler says, taking a long pull on his beer. "Don't tell anyone, but she's pregnant."  
  
"Oh," Taylor says in surprise, "well good for them, I guess."   
  
They sit for a while in silence, just being in each others' company. When he's finished his beer, Taylor looks over and notices Segs is staring at him.  
  
"I'm sorry your team lost, man."  
  
"Oh, uh, it's okay, man," Taylor says in response, "it was still a great experience. Tavares's team was just better."  
  
"Dude," Segs laughs, "I'm not the fucking press. No need to sweet-talk me."  
  
"Fine," he sighs, "it fucking sucks. I feel like I let my boys down. Not like it's any different from the rest of the season..." he trails off before he can get too upset again.  
  
"Aww, come on," Tyler says, softer than he had been speaking before. He scoots closer, moving over next to Taylor, lining their bodies up, shoulder-to-thighs. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not the only one on the team. And besides, it's not like you would've been able to play in the playoffs anyway," he reassures him, giving his shoulder a light shove in indication. "How is it, by the way?"  
  
"Better," Taylor answers. "They said I should be able to skate again the beginning of the month."  
  
"That's great!" he pauses. "You fine to, uh--"  
  
"Yes, I am," Taylor smiles. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."  
  
"Good," Segs says, "then I guess I'm clear to do this, then?" He leans over, closing the small distance between their faces to kiss him. His hand makes its way into Taylor's hair, tugging lightly, eliciting a moan. Taylor kisses back, opening his mouth to the familiar sensation.  
  
"Damn, Segs," Taylor says when they pull apart. "I forgot how awesome that was."  
  
"Yeah," the other man huffs against his lips, their foreheads still pressed together. His thumb rubs up against the jagged line leading up into his hair. "This thing wasn't here last time." His voice is even, quiet. He's not teasing, not complaining, just pointing it out. But it still doesn't make Taylor feel any better about its presence, and he shoves his head away a bit, glancing downward. Seguin won't let him get away with it, though. His other hand finds Taylor's chin, tilting his face back up to where it had been. "I like it," he says proudly, kissing the scar gently. "Builds character."  
  
Taylor has to smile at that remark. "Thanks."  
  
"So," Tyler says, "what do you say we continue this in the bedroom?" Taylor smiles and nods, then follows the other off the couch and down the hall. Segs flops himself down on the bed, stripping his shirt off and stretching out on his side. Taylor does the same, joining him and pressing their bare chests together as they kiss.   
  
Seguin escalates the situation, shoving the larger man onto his back and straddling his hips. He trails kisses down Taylor's chest, pausing to pay attention to each nipple on the way down. The body under him shudders when teeth lightly scrape the sensitive skin under his navel. Tyler chuckles at his reaction, his fingers fumbling with the button on Taylor's pants.  
  
"C'mon," he says, his voice gravelly, tapping at Taylor's thigh, "up." Taylor gets the message, lifting his hips so the other man can get his pants and underwear down around his ankles. Taylor kicks them off the rest of the way,shoving his socks off with them and letting them fall off the side of the bed.  
  
The sensation of rough stubble against his inner thigh makes him jump again, and Segs laughs at him again, nuzzling and rubbing between his legs before placing a tentative kiss at the base of Taylor's cock, waking it up and making it harden all the way (because, honestly, he'd been half-hard almost since he got the message with Tyler's address).  
  
"Oh  _god_  Segs," he whines, "please."  
  
"Well since you asked so nicely," Tyler practically growls, mouthing at the head before taking it into his mouth. Oh, wow. He had almost forgotten how good this was. Sure, he'd gotten (and given) plently of blowjobs in the past year, but there was something about Tyler that made the experience so much better. Maybe it was the insane things he could do with his tongue, or the way his fingers gripped the length he couldn't take in, but  _damn_  could the man suck dick. The male population of Boston is lucky to have that kind of talent available to them all the time.  
  
He feels himself getting close almost embarrassingly fast, and he tried to calm himself by thinking about the idea of reciprocity. He looks down and sees that Seguin has his hand in his own pants, fisting his cock lazily while bobbing his head up and down on Taylor's.  
  
"Do you," he gasps, "need me to--"  
  
"No," Tyler grunts, "it's, uh, a little too late for that," and returns to his task. That thought, the idea that Segs came just from blowing him, sent Taylor off the edge, spilling down Tyler's throat with a groan.  
  
A bit embarrassed, Tyler pulls off of him, then gets up and pulls the covers over the larger man's body. He pushes off his soiled shorts and boxers and crawls under the covers next to him.  
  
"Wow," Taylor huffs out as soon as he's able to speak again. "Why did we stop doing this again?"  
  
"2075 miles," Tyler says, still a bit out of breath himself.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"2075 miles. That's the distance between Edmonton and Boston."  
  
"You knew that a little too well," Taylor says.  
  
"Yeah, well, I think about it a lot," Tyler admits. "Kinda sucks."  
  
"Definitely sucks," Taylor murmurs, the effects of the beer and the orgasm starting to set in and make him sleepy. His eyelids are heavy as he reaches out towards the other man, pulling him a little bit closer. A muscular arm is thrown across his hip and he can feel the other's breath hot on his shoulder.  
  
"Night, Hallsy."  
  
Even if they only got to do this once a year, it was enough for now.


End file.
